


Stay With Me?

by bell0na



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:04:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bell0na/pseuds/bell0na
Summary: Torture, I think that’s the only real big one. I tried to keep it mostly undescribed - but someone does take a bite out of “your” leg. And there’s blood… Yeah.I was going through a rough time at home, needed to write to get out of it. So.. This is me getting out of it. Kinda. Um… Yeah. Enjoy?___You looked up at him, cheeks coloring and you could have sworn there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. You managed a shrug, definitely not focusing on the warmth his hands on your freaking shoulders caused to flow through your body. They were shoulders, for heaven’s sake, there was nothing romantic about that. In any other light, you could see it being amusing, but Castiel’s face was close to yours, so close that if you just leaned forward a little bit–-





	Stay With Me?

♬ I just want your extra time and your ….. kiss ♬

As the last notes to one of your favorite Prince songs rang through your speakers, you couldn’t help but laugh as you twirled around the broom in your hands, dancing. It wasn’t often the boys left you alone at the bunker - generally Sam and Dean saw you as too valuable a resource to leave behind. The current hunt they were on was just a simple salt and burn, so they elected to let you stay home.

At first you had insisted on going with them, purely out of habit, and fear that you’d be left alone with your thoughts. Sam had insisted, you had caved, and that was how you ended up cleaning the bunker while dancing to your favorite songs. It was freeing, reminding you of the glory days before you had started hunting.

Those days had been hard, fighting the good fight on your own, no real “friends” to keep you standing until the boys found you. Or rather, until Castiel found you.

No, taking on a nest of half a dozen vampires hadn’t been your smartest move. You had been fine, until you slipped on the fresh blood from their last feed and threw out your knee. You had lain there on some blood-splattered dirt floor, scowling and brandishing your machete against your death, no matter how certain you were about it. You prayed to - well, prayed to someone that you just might make it out of here alive.

The vamp smiled a wicked grin and lunged for you, and you couldn’t help but flinch. Eyes snapping shut. You yelped as something came crashing down on your good ankle, hard.

Then there was a bright white light. And when you opened your eyes, he was standing over you, blue eyes alight with righteousness. And then you were at the bunker.

You shook your head, snapping out of your memories with a smile. Since that day, Castiel had been more than kind to you. Insisting on healing you after hunts, even if you had no more than a few scratches. And more than once, you had woken up only to find the blue eyes angel standing at the foot of your bed, or even looking out your window at the stars. He’d even kept a fresh bouquets of flowers in the bunker’s dining room table once you’d expressed how the place needed something to brighten it up.

Your smile widened a little, swaying your hips in time to the beat. More Prince flowed the air, Let’s Go Crazy.

You laughed, running a hand through your hair as you used the broom in your hands as a prop while you swayed to the beat. Belting every word to the song with all you had.

“And if the elevator tries to break you down, go craz– eep!”

You clutched a hand to your chest, attempting to still your racing heart, “Oh, hey there Cas.”

The angel was standing in the doorway to the bunker’s living room, head cocked to one side as he watched you. He wasn’t leaning against the doorframe like Sam or Dean would, nor did he have that smirk that Dean constantly wore. Castiel was simply standing there, arms at his side, head tilted, blue eyes locked on yours the second you had turned around.

“Hello ____. Dean asked that I come see how you were doing.” Castiel spoke, voice gruff but not unpleasantly so.

You gave a nervous laugh, running a hand through your hair, “Um, yeah, I’m good. All’s good here.” You shifted your weight, intending to have most of it rest on the broom you were holding, but your fluffy-socked feet slipped on the bunker’s slick kitchen floor and you started to fall.

In a flash Castiel was by your side, holding you up and helping you back to your feet, “ ‘All’s good here,’ I can see that.”

You looked up at him, cheeks coloring and you could have sworn there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. You managed a shrug, definitely not focusing on the warmth his hands on your freaking shoulders caused to flow through your body. They were shoulders, for heaven’s sake, there was nothing romantic about that. In any other light, you could see it being amusing, but Castiel’s face was close to yours, so close that if you just leaned forward a little bit–

–Or he could shift his weight ever so slightly and cause both of you to go crashing onto the linoleum floor of the bunker’s kitchen, the wooden broom clattering on the floor somewhere by your feet. Cas had changed his position to keep you from catching the majority of the fall, pulling himself underneath you. Now you were in an even more comprimising position, legs straddling his hips, your hands pinning his by his head, your hair falling in a curtain around the two of you, sheilding your face and part of his from the rest of the world.

You froze, completely. Your eyes darted around to all corners of his face, memorizing every bit of it you could see. In your complete and utter study of him, you noticed a flush creep across his cheeks, eyes a fraction of a shade darker and - if you didn’t know him any better - the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Um..”

“____, I think you should stand up.” He said, you didn’t hear him talk, so much as felt the rumble of his words in your close proximity.

You blinked, “Right! Um, right. Standing. Sorry…”

You pushed yourself up, now just resting on your knees as you put one foot under the other and stood, turning to hid your blushing face as you bent at the to retrieve the fallen broom. When you rose you glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening and face flushing darker as you realized the angel sitting on the floor was staring at your ass unabashedly.

You spun rapidly to face him, broom stock straight infront of you, like the worlds worst sheild. Castiel realized he had been caught, blue eyes locking on your own and widening. His cheeks turned rosey, and he opened his mouth several times to say something, only to clamp it shut and vanish in a flutter of feathers.

You sighed, sagging forward on the broom in your hads as you smiled to yourself. An awkward enounter was still a good encounter. Especially one in such close quarters.

Unfortunately that was the last time you interacted with the angel in a very long time. when the boys returned from their hunt, and went on several more hunts. Castiel made sure to pop in every once in a while, always offering you a curt nod and a hello, but beyond that he rarely spoke to you.

That was the case, anyway. Until that freaking demon snuck up on you from behind and smashed you over the head with a pipe.

The dull throbbing in the back of your head was what clued you into what happened, steadily getting louder and louder until you forced your eyes open, blinking rapidly in the dull light. You groaned, lifting a hand to rub at the back of your head, but you found your arms tied behind your back.

That small realization was enough to snap you awake from your foggy state. Head perking up and eyes scanning around the darkened room. There was an old cot in one corner, covered in a layer of dust, a small side table, a dresser, and an old style alarm clock with the bells on it. Apart from the lack of light and the dust, it looked like a regular room. There was one window in the center of the wall to your right, where a small stream of sunlight filtered in, dust swirling through it. You shifted, testing your arms and legs - realizing that your hands were tied together with rope, and your legs tied at the knees and ankles, making getting out of those oodles of fun. You squirmed for a bit, only succeeding in loosening up your bindings slightly before you hear a muffled voice from just outside the hall.

There was a creaking sound from just behind the door. Footsteps. Your eyes went wide, thrashing against your bonds for moments more before the door swung open, a figure standing in the frame, outlined in a greenish light from somewhere in what you assumed was the hallway.

The figure stepped forward, leaving the safety of their green light and stepping into the dull world of your cell. He wore a well fitted, highlighting the few features his slim shape allowed him to have. His blond hair was slicked back against his head, every hair in it’s rightful place. The suit he wore was black, with a red undershirt and a black tie as well. You couldn’t see his eyes, but something told me they were black as night. The man’s shoes clicked carefully as he walked in a slow circle around you, hands clasped behind his back, one finger tapping out some unknown rhythm. Your eyes tracked him, head tilted down with your hair falling in-front of your face.

You dropped your eyes to the floor in-front of you, just as his feet came to a stop a few feet infront of you.

“Well, well, well,” He said with a voice that felt like nails on a chalkboard, “It took you longer to wake up that I thought it would. Seems the stories aren’t quite true, are they, ___?”

You raised your face to look at him, shaking your hair out of your face, “Bite. Me.”

He grinned, “With pleasure.” And before you even had a chance to flinch the man was on his knees with his teeth sunk into the calf closest to him.

At first you were too stunned to do anything, but he clenched his jaws, and you screamed. Not high pitched, nor the kind that happens when you’re lifting something heavy. The raw kind. The kind of scream filled with raw, unbridled pain and anguish. It was all too much, too much. He pulled away slightly, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, lapping at the blood dripping from the bite. You stopped screaming, the faint echo of it flowing through the building. When the echo faded, the man sat back on his haunches, eyes closed and face tilted upward - it was a posture similar to that of someone in the middle of a prayer.

You watched him as a smile slowly creeped across his lips, shining in the faint light with your blood. His shoulders started to shake, and his lips peeled back to reveal his once white - now red - teeth in a chilling laugh. You groaned, ducking your head and pulling your legs into you as far as you could.

“Pathetic,” The man spat, splattering blood all over you, “You can barely keep yourself safe. What those Winchesters see in you I will never understand,” he said as he dragged a finger up your leg, trailing it through the blood, “And that angel, why he bothers to protect you is a mystery.”

At the mention of Castiel your blood ran cold. You had gotten captured. You’d failed him. A stupid demon hunt and you had gotten captured, and you didn’t even care what the Boys would think, but Castiel, there was a reason he wasn’t interested in you. You were pathetic.

Your thoughts must have shown on your face, because the man laughed, his eyes flashing the same color as your blood in the fading light, “Exactly. You’re pathetic.”

You curled into yourself, ignoring his finger trailing through the blood on your leg.

He returned every single day, slowly tearing apart at your mental state, and taking a new bite out of you every day. Going by the fading and returning light from the one window, you were stuck in that hellhole for around a month, the days started to blend together, no distinguisable difference between one and the next. You slept when you could, sometimes not for days on end. Other times it was near impossible for you to crawl your way out of sleep. It was the only peaceful time you could find between the demon’s physical torture and the mental he put you through. It was like this for a whole month, maybe more. With no Sam, no Dean, no Castiel. No way to know if they were even looking for you. There was no way they even cared. With the anti-possession tattoo on your stomach, and the enochian wards swirling around it, there was no way they would ever find you. If they even were bothered to look for you. Sure, in the few moments

The door opened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to sit up. You were tired, all but starved, covered in dirt and dried blood. The familiar sound of footsteps was all you heard. Nothing new, so you remained staring blankly at the small window. Even at the sound of a knife being drawn from its sheathe you didn’t move, just felt yourself sink deeper into the hole you were in.

A pair of clean black dress shoes found their way into your vision, their owner crouched, head tilting and eyes as red/back as they always were. The knife in his hands was new. Clean, barely used.

“You were supposed to last longer than this,” he said, nearly real sadness in his voice, “We were going to have so much fun.”

He places the tip of the knife carefully against his first finger, watching you as you just started ahead blankly. They hadn’t come. They hadn’t come to save you and now you were going to die. And you weren’t even going to try and fight for it. You were just going to lie down and die.

“It’s a shame they never even cared to look for you,” The man said, “I haven’t even heard of them trying to find you. I was planning on having a party when they arrived.” he tapped the flap of the knife against his free hand, contemplating, “It’s almost a shame to waste you… You’ve been so good, too.”

“For an angel he’s not a very good /friend/,” the word was dripping in slime, “One would think that he would actually get off of his feathery ass and look for you. Not sit there with the Winchesters, catering to their every whim and desire. You’re just a human in his eyes. A worthless, useless, insulting stain on the face of this planet. He couldn’t care less if I were to kill you right now.”

“You’re nothing to him”

His last words were clipped short, percise. He knew exactly what he was going to do and how he was going to do it. You closed your eyes tight, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall at his last words. The worst part was that you believed they were true. It had been weeks, and they hadn’t come to find you. They had done nothing to save you.

And the last actual interaction you would ever have with your angel was an awkward encounter in the kitchen.

You let yourself get lost in your thoughts, ignoring the real world around you and instead deciding to entertain thoughts of what might thave happened if you had allowed that day to go as far as you wanted it to. It was a fruitless exercise in imagination, the image of Castiel in your head was faded, blurry, and his voice was… off? Not as deep as it should have been, or maybe it was too smooth? That realization broke your heart more than any other one you had entertained thus far, he’d been missing from your life for to long. YOu couldn’t even remember his voice.

You felt the man press his knife to your throat, slowly building enough pressure to slice through, and you let a single tear escape.

The world seemed to change to slow motion. You felt the tear pass over every molocule of your skin, and waited as it hung, suspended in mid-air before your heard it splash onto the cold floor of your prision and soon-to-be grave.

And the whole world exploded and went white.

The knife slipped across your throat, just slicing through your skin and it stung. The man pulled away, yelling something about how the intruder didn’t care, and shouldn’t be here. You heard a struggle, men grunting and shoutng in gruff voices, shoes scuffling and people being throwin into walls.

“Sam! Dean! ___! Close your eyes!”

The world was flooded with white light, almost blinding in it’s intensity - even with your eyes closed. And there was a scream. And then there was blackness and utter silence, save for the ringing in your ears. You stayed right where you were, curled into a ball and crying soundlessly, just letting the tears fall.

You couldn’t understand much of anything else that was happening, still locked in your own little world. The boys wouldn’t come, Cas would come, you were going to die at the hands of some freaking stranger and you couldn’t care less. There were several people talking - men, three of them, judging by the low pitches of their voices. There was one voice that almost made you open your eyes, your name being said several times, but more than that you couldn’t fin it in yourself to care.

The lowest of the voices came closer, carefully saying your name, almost like it was made of glass and could shatter at any second. A careful hand touched your shoulder and you flinched on reflex, afraid of another blade or bite or something awful.

But nothing came.

Pain didn’t folow the placement of that hand. Against everything engrained in you over the last month or so you opened your eyes and rolled onto your back. A pair of eyes stared into your own, changing from frightened to relieved to something warm you didn’t have a name for, and finally settling on concerned. The blue of those eyes were startling, so very startling. They were the exact shade of blue you had fought to remember and keep intact in your mind for so long.

“____?”

Slowly, very lowly, the rest of the man’s face came into view. A mess of black hair, sticking out at all kinds of different angles, skin slightly tanned, lines from either exhaustion or smiling coming fromthe corner of his eyes. Those eyes were a remarkable shade of blue, but they were shining and tinged red at the corners, like he was holding back tears. There were pale lips, and slight stubble ghosting his cheeks. The other two men’s voices had stopped, leaving the room bathed in a heavy silence.

“_____? Can you hear me?”

His voice was gentle, deep. There was something calming about the gravelly quality to it - almost like he hadn’t slept in forever and his vocal chords had dried out–

It all came flooding back to you at once.

“C-Castiel?” You managed, voice weak from days of either over or under use.

He nodded, “____, thank father. We found you.” He moved to help you stand, keeping one arm around you for support.

“We?” You whispered as you stood finally lifting your gaze to settle on those of two of your dearest friends, and people you thought you were never going to see again.

“…Sam? D-Dean?” Dean waved, taking a small step closer to you, “I… I thought you guys weren’t coming.”

Sam spoke, “___, of course we came. You’re family.”

“Family don’t get left behind,” Dean said, voice low and concerned.

Your emotions bubbled to the surface, all the rage at getting captured, the lonliness of being here, the frustration of not being able to fight back and the fear that you really were going to die. It all must have showing in your eyes because the boys took a step backwards, watching you war over which emotion should take the lead in your outburst.

What actually broke you was Castiel pulling you closer to him. Heavens most awkward angel pulling you in for a real hug, one hand cradeling the back of your head and the other squeezing you almost too tight. It broke whatever wall was holding everything in and you just cried. Hands clenching the collar of his trench coat, tears staining his crisp white shirt and ugly sobs shaking your body.

And he just held you close, let you cry. He must have communicated something to the boys because you heard their footsteps walking away, and after a little while longer the roar of the Impala speeding away.

Castiel just let you cry, holding you as you let out eevery single thought and emotion that had beeen plaguing you for over a month. It was… It was more than you had hoped for.

After a while the crying slowed down, and you just stayed in his arms feeling exhaustion wash over you in a wave. You were tired, you wanted to go home, you wanted this nightmare to just end. Castiel’s hand continued to pet the back of your head, holding you tight to him, like if he held you close enough he could shield you from the horrors of the word.

But it was a little late for that.

When the awkward heaves of breath had finally stopped, and you could feel the swollenness of your eyes without even touching them. You shifted, buring your face further into the confines of Castiel’s chest.

“Hey, Cas?” You whispered.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“Can we go home? Please?”

You may have imagined it, but you could have sworn you felt him press a light kiss to the top of your head, “Of course, ___. The bunker or the motel room Sam and Dean are staying at?”

“Bunker. Please.”

He nodded, hands going for a more secure hold on you. Your stomach seemed to drop out from under you, there was the sound of wings, and a brief moment of weightlessness before you felt your feet find solid ground under you.

The bunker was cold against your bare feet, but it was the good kind of cold. The kind you get walking into an air conditioned building after a warm sunny day. The air smelled like gun powder, and leather, cinnimon, and home-cooked bread. It was a smell that you had missed so much, it smelled like home. Your eyes started to prickle again, thankful to actually feel safe once again.

You pulled back from Cas, walking to the living room and collapsing onto the couch, with the angel trailing behind you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, hiding the majority of your person from the angel sitting across from you.

“___, you’re being so quiet. It’s… unlike you.” Castiel spoke after a while, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His blue eyes were trained on you, caution lighting them.

It was a long time before you spoke, simply starting off into space.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

There was so much more venom in those words than you had intended, so much more blame and hurt and downright fear. It brought your eyes prickling again and you had to tuck your face into your knees to avoid looking at Castiel.

“Oh, ____,” The angels voice was soft, and almost sounded hurt too. The couch creaked, and you felt him gently pull you so you were resting your head against his chest, “We could never leave you. Never.”

“Then where were you?” You whispered, afraid if you spoke at a normal volume that you might lose the small amount of composure you had, “I sat in that room for a month–”

“A month? ___, you were missing for five months. We searched for you non-stop. Sam and Dean kept bringing demons back here, questioning them. Trying to find where you were.”

You looked up at him, eyes shining with the tears you were holding back. He kept talking, “I searched endlessly for you. I scoured the ends of the Earth for you, all because that damn demon warded the building agianst any and everyone. I looked right over you countless times and had no idea. And thinking of what that demon might of done to you if I had been moments later… It makes me… I would have…”

Castiel’s voice was brimming with anger, enough that he was loosing the words he wanted to say. You had never seen the angel loose his composure before, in fact, you had never seen Cas express so much of any one emotion before.

He took a deep breath before continuing, voice now steady and even, “If they had killed you -” he had trouble spitting that word out, “- I don’t know how I would have been able to… keep going.”

You had to lean in to catch his last words, and even then it was jsut the barest breath at the end of those words.

“Keep going?” You asked, pulling out of his grasp enough so that you could actually look him in the eyes.

Castiel ducked his blue gaze from yours, cheeks a shade pinker than they had been a moment ago. He didn’t look to you for a long moment, but when he did he actually looked… afraid?

You cocked your head to one side the same way you had seen him do millions of times before, leaning forward and raising your eyebrows ever so slightly, inviting him to keep going.

“____… This is not how Dean informed me it would go.”

You raised an eyebrow, “How what would go, exactly?”

He sighed, running a hand through his already dishevealed hair, “He said that this would be something that happened over the course of time. That I wouldn’t need to tell you under such… such delicate surcumstances.”

“Tell me what, Cas?” Was it just you or did his face seem a little closer that it was a moment ago?

He stared at you, cheeks definitely growing redder by the second - highlighting the few freckles that littered his face, and the lines under his eyes. Smile lines. Before you had been kiddnapped those had been your favorite part of his face, the lines that made his smiles so much more, and always there when you were around him. But… they were faded, like he hadn’t genuinely smiled in a really long time.

Castiel rolled his lips together, and you couldn’t help but glance at them, your own tongue darting out to wet your lips. When your managed to peel your eyes away from his lips, the blue of his was much closer than it had been.

“___, it has been pointed out to me that… I enjoy your company.”

“Okay? I enjoy your company too, I guess.” You said, doing your best to keep dissapointment from coloring your voice.

“No, ____, I mean… This is much harder than I thought it would be,” He exhaled, backing away from you the smallest amount, “____, did you ever wonder why I was always checking in on you? Why I made sure to heal you first?”

“Because Sam and Dean told you to.”

“No, ____, never that. I can’t bear to see you in pain. To see you in even the smallest amount of pain for the shortest amount of time pains me. Because… I have feelings for you, ____.”

Your heart stopped.

Not literally of course, but your eyes widened and you lost your breath and your stomach dropped out and there was a *ping* in the general vicinity of your heart. He liked you. Holy God on High he actually liked you?

There was no way. You smiled, letting a barely passable fake laugh, “Ha, Cas. Everyone has feelings about other people. That’s nothing to be—”

“That’s not what I meant ___ and you know it,” He took your hands in his, looking at them before he raised his eyes to your own, “____, the feelings I have for you cannot be described as platonic in nature. More of… in my mind they read as a redish color. Warm, inviting, one of the few emotions that make me smile these days…”

You stayed stock still, afraid to move, afriad to breathe, not sure what the results of an action as simple as that would be.

“What are you doing Friday night?”

You blinked, “Sorry?”

Castiel took a deep breath, looking at your hands in his, “Dean said it was customary to court the person you had feelings for. I wasn’t sure what they were, until you were missing for so long. I think I may be falling for you, so to speak, and I don’t think I could stand it if I didn’t show you how I feel before I lost you.”

You were speechless. After all that time when you were doubting and fearing the awkwardness of your relationship with the angel, all those months of torture and fearing the worst - that he didn’t care for you at all.

And he was asking you out.

You leaned back on the couch, not sure what to do, what to say, let alone how to react. Castiel was looking at you with those massive blue eyes, sparlking.

“Cas, um,” You ran a hand through your hair, “Look, I appreciate the offer. I do. But… After that time in that room, I don’t think I can do that just yet.”

Your stomach turned over on itself as he blinked and looked away, making a small hum of acknowledgement. His brows furrowed, and then relaxed again as he looked back to you. There was a moment where the two of you simply looked at each other - a moment that seemed to take far too long. And then he nodded.

“I understand.” He said, his voice a little quieter, but not a trace of hurt in his eyes, “You have been through a lot, perhaps more than one human ever should be asked to endure in their life. If there’s anything I can do to help you, you need only ask.”

He rubbed his hands over his thighs, watching his hands before he sighed and stood. He offered you a small smile before shoing his hds in his trenchcoat pockets and starting to walk away.

“Wait, Cas?” You called, reaching out with one hand.

The Angel paused, turing to look at you with hi shead slightly cocked to one side, “Yes ____?”

He never looked more perfect than he did in that moment. A concerned look in his eyes, small smile on his face, and as disheveled as ever.

“There is one thing you could do to help, if you want to.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands.

There were footsteps and then Castiel was squatting infront of you, waiting. You sat up a little straighter, determined to get the words resting on the tip of your tongue without too much difficulty.

“Stay with me? Please?”

You were terrified. Bearing yourself once more to this man, this angel, and the only thoughts in your brain were please dear gods don’t let this be a mistake. Over and over and over again. The thoughts melted away as he smiled at you, more with his eyes than with his lips.

“Of course, ____. As you wish.”


End file.
